Veronica
by SupernaturalAngel
Summary: He died so she could live. But no one knows but him. Who is she? She's Veronica McCawley, or better known as Ron and she's only eight. But destiny awaits her . . . Ron grows up!ITS DONE! YAY! BONUS CHAPTER UP!
1. Prologue

She wanted to fly too. Not like him. She wanted to fly commercially. She wanted to go around the world.  
"Daddy?" She asked. She looked like an angel. Tanned skin. Sun streaked honey colored hair. Big hazel eyes. High cheekbones.   
"What, angel?" She was daddy's girl.  
"I want to go to Paris!"  
He laughed. "When you're all grown up and have a job that pays enough."  
"But can't you take me? In the airplane? With Danny? And Mom?"  
He laughed again and stroke her curls. She is only eleven and already wants to fly away.  
"Nahhh, angel. You'd get bored flyin' that long."  
She pouted. "You know I wouldn't Daddy!"  
He laughed again and hugged her tight. She pouted for a bit, then smiled.   
"Ron, come here! Look what I found." Danny hollered from the other side of the meadow.  
She let go of her beloved Daddy and rushed over to her brother.   
"Ain't it adorable?" The fifteen year old boy always brought his sister little presents, but never a puppy! She took it from his arms.  
"He's so soft!" She petted it and ruffled its white fur. "Is it a he?"  
Danny nodded.   
"Oh, can we keep him Daddy?" She asked, all angel eyed.  
He couldn't resist. He smiled. "Go ahead. Feed him some of that leftover meat loaf we have in the fridge. But don't let your Mom see him 'til I've softened her up a bit."   
"His name is Pearl!" She announced.  
"Veronica!" Her mom yelled from the door. "What's that you're holding?"  
She smiled at her daddy. "Go. Fast."  
He laughed and went. Ron got her puppy. Another battle won. For Pearl.  
  
  
  
A/N: Bonus points to the person that guesses who Ron and her parents are. I don't think it's that hard actually, but whaeva. Please review. If I get . . . 10 reviews I'll write more! 


	2. One Daughter, Two Fathers (aka Graveston...

Author's Note: Yay! All of you who guessed Rafe and Evelyn, hooray!!! You're RIGHT!!! I don't think that was too hard, but whateva. I am so glad you liked it. This chapeter is short too and kind of deals with the Danny's death situation. For Ron anyway. I know your picture of her is very vague, and I painted it this way on perpose.   
I think writing is more dynamic and more interesting to read when sentences are short and simple and don't over describe. I described her appearence in the prologue, subtly.   
The next chapter will be longer and not so . . . cryptic. There will be more details about her everyday life. I just had to get this out of my system right now. Continue reviewing please and thanx for readin'!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
"You have a baby girl. Congratulations!" The nurse smiled at Rafe and ushered him inside the room.   
  
He was silent. In his eyes, she was perfect. Wispy little curls covered her head. Her eyes alert and hazel. She has Ev's eyes, was all he could think.   
  
Evelyn handed her to him. He was afraid. He didn't want to break her fragile little body. She was worth more than the world's largest supply of diamonds. She was . . . his! Perfection. Ten finger. Ten toes. Daddy's girl already.  
  
They named her Veronica. For his mother.   
  
  
  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
  
  
  
  
She was daddy's girl from that moment on. Danny was his too. But . . . not like this. Danny was Danny's. She was his flesh and blood. His and Evelyn's. He finally understood what all the fuss was about.  
  
She adored him too. He was her precious Daddy. She was his angel. He gave her everything including his love of adventure. And his loyalty.   
  
One morning, when she was five, Rafe woke up early. He couldn't sleep. When he glanced out the window, he saw his daughter sitting in front of the grave. He dressed quickly and quietly slid out the back door. Her back was to him, so he stood silently for a moment, watching her.  
  
" . . . I'll have to go to school next year too. Danny says he hates school. I don't want to go either. I'd rather stay home and go up in the airplane with Daddy.   
  
Daddy says you were a pilot too. I wish you were alive then you could teach me to fly. Daddy said I was too young. But I'm not! He said when I turn eight like Danny did before his first lesson. And if you were alive, maybe Mama and Daddy won't be so sad sometimes."  
  
"We wouldn't, angel. But we can't change anything." Rafe interrupted. He smiled sadly at her. He could just imagine her sitting on Danny's knee while she said all of this. He could almost see Danny nodding sympathetically and petting her curls.  
  
"Daddy, how did he die?" She asked eyes wide.  
  
He explained the mission to her. "So you killed people too, Daddy?"  
  
He nodded, eyes filled with regret. "I did angel. I killed people. Boy, do I wish I had never gone in the Marines. But I did."  
  
"But what if you killed a dad like Danny? Wouldn't his family be as sad as ours?"  
  
He nodded. "They would. And you know what angel? It wasn't worth it. Danny should have seen his son grow up. He should have lived."  
  
"But, Daddy, if he had lived, I wouldn't be here, would I?"  
  
He stared into her eyes thoughtfully.  
  
"No. I guess you wouldn't."  
  
"Then it's my fault."  
  
"How can it be your fault? He died long before we knew of you. Before Danny was born even. It's not your fault. It's mine. I should have told him he was going to be a father. He never would have gone."  
  
"Yes. Yes, he would of."  
  
He thought for a second. "You're right. He would have."  
  
"Let's go eat. I'm hungry. Can we have pancakes?" She placed the daisy she had been holding in front of the stone. He took her in his arms.  
  
"They were Danny's favorite breakfast." He whispered to no one in particular. But she heard him. And she insisted on pancakes every Memorial Day after that.  
  
  
  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
  
  
  
  
Since that morning, she would wake up at the break of dawn. She'd dress herself carefully and comb her curls. Out the back door she would go, for a walk. On the walk she pick a flower (in the summer), or some pretty leaves (in the fall), or even some pine branches (in the winter). She arrange them carefully at Danny's grave, sit in front of it. She would speak to him, for at least ten minutes. Out loud, tracing her finger over the engraved letters as she spoke. Then she'd head inside and wake her parents for breakfast. No exceptions, no holidays.   
  
In fact, holidays were extra special. At Christmas, she'd decorate the grave with pine branched and holly. On Easter, she'd make wreaths of flowers. On Memorial Day, her Daddy would also get a flower wreath. Danny was allowed to help her on holidays. But her mornings were hers only. Danny had evenings to visit his Dad.  
  
She had two fathers, just like her brother. To her, Daniel Walker was as real as Rafe McCawley. Only he was invisible. But he was a great listener. She knew from experience.   
  
  
  
  
Please use the box just below this sentence even for just one word. I can take constructive critisism very well too!  



	3. Grave Fascination

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I always give someone from some story a little sister or a daughter. But I think Ron is one of my best creations yet. I'm trying to make a website with drawings and pictures and profiles of the characters in the stories I write, but itsnot working well. If I get it up, you will be able to see Ron! And all my other characters.  
The chapter is short, but bear with me.   
  
Ron opened her eyes, slowly waking up. She got up, put on her favorite denim overalls and a white t shirt. She pulled the comb through her hair and made it into two braids. She took the chain with the dog collars and placed it around her neck. She and Danny each had three of Daniel's tags and three of Rafe's.   
  
She skipped down the stairs and out the back door. She headed toward the meadow. She picked a daisy and headed back to the gravestone. She liked to call it the listening stone.   
  
"Hi Danny. Did you like the heather I brought you yesterday? Some of the kids at school think I'm crazy because I say I have two fathers. They think I talk to myself. They don't know you're my favorite person to talk to. I'm having Casey for a sleepover tonight. I'll bring her over tonight so you can meet her." She fingered the lockets on her neck. She had two gold lockets on one chain. One with her Daddy's hair and picture and one with Daniel's. One finger traced the W on the stone softly. She shifted from a sitting position and lay, propped up on her elbows.   
  
"After Danny talks to you. I hope you listen to him as well as you listen to me." The wind ruffles her stray hairs softly in answer. She stared at the sky amazed. "Daddy said that you are my and Danny's guardian angel. He said you're always with us when he can't be. Tomorrow's July 1st and you know what that means, don't you? I get my first flying lesson. Daddy's gonna take me and Casey up after breakfast and start teaching me. Can you watch over us then? Thank you Dad. Danny. Whatever." She brushed her lips softly against the stone. "Love you. Bye. Wish me luck with Casey!"  
  
She went back inside. "Daddy! Mama!" She hollered. No answer. She climbed the stairs and bounded into Danny's room.   
  
"Danny!!! Get up!" She pulled his blankets off.  
  
"Shut up an' let me sleep!" He pulled the blankets back.  
  
"You'll miss breakfast if I shut up!" She teased.  
  
"Okay okay! Get outta here and I'll get up."  
  
She bounded into her parents' room next. "Mama! Daddy!" Come on. I'm hungry. I had an extra long talk with Danny's dad. I need breakfast."  
  
"Okay!" Evelyn yawned and stretched. Three years she woke up like this. With Ron yelping in her ear for breakfast.  
  
"What did you talk to him 'bout angel?" Rafe asked, rubbing his eyes to get them to see.  
  
"I told him all about Casey sleeping over and how you said he was mine and Danny's angel and my flying lesson too!" She said all of this in one big breath. Rafe smiled.  
  
"Angel?" Evelyn looked at him in surprise.  
  
"Yeah, Mama. Daddy told me that Danny's dad was my and Danny's guardian angel. That he watches over us when Daddy can't be there and he protects us."  
  
Evelyn looked at Rafe questioningly, with a tiny smile on her face. He grinned at her. "You know he watches over them. Why do you think she loves to talk to him?"  
  
"Because he listens better than anyone! He understands me no matter what I say to him. I'm lucky. I have two daddies." At this, she skipped out of the room and down the stairs.  
  
"Don't you wish we were a normal family?" Evelyn asked.  
  
He smiled. "We're better than normal. You heard the girl. These kids have two daddies instead of one. And one can protect them anywhere they go."  
  
She smiled at him sadly. "Sometimes I think the kids got switched by accident. Why is she so fascinated with Danny? She calls him her Dad. I got a call from the school the other day. They said she was telling the kids that she had two fathers. They thought she was telling lies."  
  
Rafe grinned again. "So what did you tell them?"  
  
"I told them that she wasn't telling lies, that she was telling the truth. Then I hung up." She smiled slyly at him. They laughed together.  
  
"Mama! I'm starvin'!" A cry was heard from the kitchen.  
  
"We're coming down!" Rafe roared back.  
  
"Most little girls her age would be afraid to be near a grave. She talks to it. And she lies down on top and sits and everything."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with that. She sees him as an angel, not a ghost. No. I think she sees him as a normal person. But to her, he's invisible. " Rafe told his wife as they dressed. "Besides, I didn't raise no sissy!"  
  
She rolled her eyes and went downstairs to start breakfast, before Ron started yelling again.   
  
"Mama, can I wear my special dress today? Since tomorrow's my birthday?"  
  
"Why don't you wear it tomorrow then?"  
  
"Because tomorrow's Saturday and I want everyone in school to see it."  
  
"All right. Go ahead. Just don't take too long or you'll be late for school."  
  
Ron hopped up the stairs and back into her room. She opened her closet and took out one of the two dresses that hung in the back. It was yellow and blue with a hula design. It was made from the two hula shirts her father and Danny had worn during the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Her mom had cut the two shirts and fashioned them into a short summer dress for Ron. It was the only dress she allowed her mom to dress her in.   
  
She pulled it on and went back downstairs to the mouth watering smell of sausages.  
  
  
  
A/N: Do you think Danny (SR) should be seen by Ron on her birthday? Input on this topic is much needed. I can't make up my mind! 


	4. Happy Birthday Ron!

Author's Note: Your wish is my command! You will so understand this sentence when you FINISH reading this chapter. Darla, some of it is for you. The school scene with the bully ... I was actually thinking about that when I started the story, and I finally fit it in. If you like, review. If you don't like, review. see a pattern? Constructive criticism needed! Not welcome! NEEDED!!!  
Thanks 4 Readin'! (This is longer than the previous chapter.)  
  
  
  
"What's with the dress Ron?" Danny's best friend Michael asked as they walked to school.   
  
"It's my birthday tomorrow."   
  
"So what does that have to do with the dress?"  
  
"It's my special dress. It's made from the two hula shirts Daddy and Danny's Dad wore during the Pearl Harbor bombing."  
  
"Oh." Mikey muttered uncomfortably. Ron skipped ahead and picked a few flowers off the side of the road. She poked the stems through her braids and waited for the boys to catch up.  
  
  
  
"Your spelling is page thirty four. Do activities A through D for homework. You may go!" The teacher dismissed the second graders for lunch. Ron waited patiently for Casey.   
  
"You are still sleeping over, aren't you?"   
  
She nodded. "Yes. My Mama said its okay. What are we going to do, Ronnie?"  
  
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME RONNIE!"   
  
Casey smirked. "You want to be called by a boy's name!"  
  
"Ronnie sounds wimpy. Besides, do you want me to call you Case?"  
  
"Okay! I'll call you Ron! Geez!"   
  
Ron pouted. "I was gonna have you meet my Dad, but now I'm not so sure."  
  
Casey looked confused. "But I've met you Dad. Lots of times."  
  
They sat on the steps and opened up their lunches. Ron shook her head and blinked in the noon sunlight. "Nooo. You haven't met my other dad. You've only met Daddy."  
  
"What are you talking about?!"  
  
"I have two daddies."  
  
"No you don't. No one has two daddies."  
  
"I do. And Danny does too."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because. Just because. See, his dad died. He's my other dad."  
  
"Is that who you want me to meet?" Casey looked at her friend, horrified. Ron nodded and continued chewing on her sandwich.  
  
"You want me to meet a dead person? Veronica McCawley! I am never speaking to you again!" Casey stood abruptly, took her things and moved them to where the other girls were eating. Ron stared, along with the rest of the playground of kids, at her open mouthed.  
  
"She's mental. Two fathers!" Johnny Gregory, the biggest bully in school, told the kids.  
  
"You shut up! Don't you dare say a word about my sister!" Danny crossed the playground and stood in front of Johnny. He was at least six inches shorter, but so what?  
  
"Or else what?"  
  
"Or else I'm going to have to cave your face in, you big bully!"  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"I'd like to see you try, you little bastard!"  
  
  
Danny aimed for his nose. And landed quite on target. Unfortunately, so did Johnny's huge fist. With a sickening crunch, flesh and bone connected with Danny's cheekbone. Ron's eyes widened and she stood up. Blinded by anger, she ran up to Johnny and beat her little fists on his back. He thought it was one of Danny's friends, the other kids supposed, and his arm flew out. Catching the little girl's jawbone and causing her to fall back. Blood splurged out of her mouth all over her dress.   
  
She sat there, shocked for a moment, then sprang back up to her brother's defense. No one had ever hit her before. And she hated Johnny. He was the one who had hurt her. Her and Danny. She kicked the sharp edges of her shoes into the soft flesh under his ankle bone. He howled. Turned to face her.  
  
"Ron, get out of here!" Danny screamed. She stood in front of Johnny, half his size, and punched with her miniature fists. He pushed her back by the shoulder. Turned to Danny. But Danny had already aimed. Again at Johnny's nose. Blood fell, thick as a waterfall, down his clothes and to the gravel.   
  
"Oh my god! Get off each other! What in the world possessed you two?" Miss Stevenson ran out of the school and broke up the fight. "Daniel Walker! John Gregory! I expected more of you two!" She didn't see little Ron, hidden by Johnny's massive figure.  
  
"Miss Stevenson, my-" Danny began.  
  
"No excuses. What you did was unacceptable."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No buts!"  
  
Ron moved out from behind Johnny. Miss Stevenson spotted her.   
  
"Veronica McCawley! My god! Don't tell me you fought too?" Ron nodded. She wiped her mouth with an already bloody hand. She spit on the gravel. Blood.  
  
"Dear god! Go home at once and get your Mama to stop the bleeding. And tell her to come back immediately!" She added eyeing Danny.  
  
"But Miss, I'm bleedin' too!" Johnny moaned. It was true. The front of his white and blue T Shirt was a revolting shade of red. Blood continued to flow freely from his nostrils.   
  
She glared at him. "You'll live."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Evelyn almost fainted when she saw Ron running toward the house, dress stained crimson, hand cupped over her mouth.   
  
"Veronica! What the hell happened to you?!"  
  
Rafe heard her and came into the kitchen where she was sitting his bloodied daughter on top of the kitchen table.   
  
"Are you okay, angel? Did World War Three happen without me?" Rafe took a towel, wet it with cold water, and wiped her hands and neck. Her mother carefully examined her mouth.  
  
"Teeth?" She asked Ron.  
  
Ron cupped her hand and spit two out. Her mother grimaced.   
  
"Are you still bleeding?"  
  
Ron nodded, her mouth too full of blood and saliva to speak. Instead, she hopped off the table. She limped to the sink and spit. Her mother gave her a glass of water. "Rinse."  
  
Another river of scarlet gore. "Here, now rinse with this." She did. It stopped bleeding. Rafe sat her back on the table and examined her carefully.   
  
Split lip. Two teeth knocked out (baby teeth, thankfully). Tongue cut on her tooth. Bruises the size of Tennessee on her shoulder and chin. The numbness of the hits was long gone and pain had filled its place.   
  
"You'll live." Rafe concluded.  
  
"How did this happen?" Evelyn asked, suspicious.  
  
"Well, I told Casey I wanted her to meet my dad, and she said she already met him. So I said my other dad, who died, and she got mad at me, and then Johnny Gregory said I was mental. And Danny stood up and punched him in the nose. And Johnny punched Danny. I got up and I started punching Johnny and he whacked me across the jaw. Then I started stepping on his feet and he pushed me by the shoulder. And then the teacher came and told me to go home and tell you to go to the school and talk about Danny." Ron stared at her knees, knowing full well that she was in for a lecture.   
  
To her surprise, it didn't come. Not then anyway. Her mother just took her purse and went out the back door. She headed down the road to the school. Ron glanced at her father. He looked sad.  
  
He didn't say a word as he examined her palms. Little stones had set within the soft childish flesh. He took her to the living room, set her down on the couch and carefully tried to remove the pebbles. He picked them out, spread ointment, and bandaged her hands with gauze. She sat silently through the whole procedure.  
  
He sat down next to her, and they stared at each other silently. Ron had a hard time keeping her tears from falling. Her mouth hurt so much!  
  
"I-I—I ruined my dress." She couldn't stop them any longer. They slid down her cheeks. Her precious dress. Her two daddies' shirts!   
  
"It's okay. Thank god you weren't hurt. Angel, what were you thinking? He could have killed you! You could have fallen, hit your head." Rafe hated to see her hurting so much. He wanted to pulverize that Gregory boy. Hitting a little girl like that! He swore in his mind.  
  
"I'm sorry Daddy, but he was hurting Danny! And he thought I was lying!" She couldn't stop sobbing. It hurt her to talk even.   
  
He carefully hugged her, and she soaked his shirt. "Let's get you into your overalls and wash the dress. Okay?" He carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom. He filled the tub and fetched her favorite clothes. Then he carefully washed the blood off of her while she stood with her hands up, not to wet the gauze. She dried off and slowly got into her clothes. He took her dress and soaked it. Then he carried her into her room and set her on the bed.  
  
"Casey hates me too. This is the worst birthday ever!" Ron muttered before sleep took control of her senses. He kissed her softly and covered her with a sheet.  
  
"Happy Birthday, angel."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Her dreams were filled with a white light and laughter. She was angry at the laughter. She kept wailing desperately: "It's not funny! It's not funny!" But the laughter continued.   
  
She opened her eyes. Someone was touching her shoulder. "Daddy?" She half whispered, half yawned.  
  
"Close enough." A soft voice spoke next to her head. She turned to face the person, afraid. Who could be in their house?  
  
She blinked. Again. And again. He smiled at her. She smiled back. "Danny?"  
  
He nodded. "I wanted to wish you a happy birthday."  
  
"T—Thank you." She stammered.  
  
"And I want to thank you for all the pretty flowers you leave me. I love hearing you talk to me. You're the only person who does that. The rest are too afraid. Even Danny. I love you Veronica. Or Ron is it?"  
  
She nodded. "I love you too. But do you wish . . . Well if you hadn't died, then I wouldn't be here."  
  
"I don't regret dying. I regret not being able to take part in the world. And Danny thinks I left him. That's why he doesn't speak to be like you do.But I love our talks. Please keep talking to me. I love to hear you."  
  
She nodded again. "Can you see us all the time?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you? Are you my angel?"  
  
"Sort of. It's complicated. But, yes, I suppose you could say that I'm your angel. But I have to go. I wasn't supposed to let you see me, but . . . With the fight and everything. Tell your parents I love them. And tell Danny I love him and that I'll always be with him, no matter what."  
  
"You tell him."  
  
"I can't! I mean, I have already broken the rules!"  
  
"What are they going to do, expel you from Heaven?"  
  
He laughed. "You're right. But not now. I'll give you a sigh when I decide the time is right."  
  
"Don't wait too long! I love you."  
  
"Love you too!"  
  
When she blinked, he was gone.   
  
  
  
  
Awwww! Ain't that sweet?! Tell ME! 


	5. Of Hands, Dirt, and Parachutes

Author's Note: I need a beta for this story. Anyone who wants to volunteer, you can either do it in your review, or in an email to me. My address is smilerickybritney@yahoo.com This chapter is short, but I was very busy thins week. I promise a longer one for next time. I love ur reviews, but I'd like some more.   
Thank you HuntressMinerva (luv ur name), and ashkickerchick (is that right?) for reviewing after every single chapter. Keep it up. lol.   
Lu ya'll!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She slowly got out of bed and went downstairs. Danny was reading on the living room couch and her parents were talking quietly in the kitchen. She stepped in and the conversation stopped. Rafe rushed to her, picked her up, and set her on his knee.   
  
"Daddy, Mama, I saw Danny."  
  
Confusion. "Why shouldn't you? He's right in the living room."   
  
"No. I saw Daniel. He told me to tell you that he loves you both." She reached for a cookie.  
  
Her parents exchanged glances. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?" Her mom asked.  
  
"I wasn't dreaming. It was him. He was so nice. He told me he watches over me and Danny and that he loves the way I talk to him. He said that I was the only one who isn't afraid to really talk to him."  
  
"But Danny's dead."  
  
She nodded, munching on the cookie.   
  
"You couldn't have seen him."  
  
"He was an angel."  
  
"Not a ghost?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"How do you know?" Her father's look was skeptical.  
  
"He told me." She said simply. Then she got up and left through the back door, wiping her hands on her overalls.  
  
Her parents stared at each other for a long moment. Evelyn smiled softly and looked out the window were her daughter was talking to the gravestone.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ron untied the gauze on her palms. It itched. She picked a few sunflowers and took them to Danny's grave. Her daisy, from the morning, was withering. She lay, staring at the dirt and the shriveled daisy.   
  
"Please show yourself to Danny. And Mama and Daddy, if you can. They miss you so much. And they don't believe me. They think I dreamed meeting you. Tell me something only you and they know so that I can prove I saw you. Please?"  
  
She stared at the dirt, waiting. She caressed it with her hand. Nothing. She dropped the flowers angrily and stood. As she brushed the dirt off her overalls, she could have sworn that she heard a voice whisper in her ear.  
  
"Parachutes, tell Evelyn parachutes." When she turned, there was no one there. Ron rushed inside to the kitchen, where her parents were still whispering.  
  
"Parachutes, Mama." She said triumphantly.   
  
Evelyn paled. The color left her face. She had never told anyone, not even Rafe. Escpecially not Rafe. He sat there, looking confusedly from his wife to his daughter.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Parachutes. Danny told me to tell Mama. But what does it mean?" She looked from her father to her mother.  
  
Evelyn choked. "Nothing."  
  
"Come on Ev. What does that mean?"  
  
"I'll tell you later."  
  
"Why not now?"  
  
"It's not exactly rated G material." She said, nodding meaningfully in Ron's direction.  
  
Rafe's face froze. "Okay." Even after that many years, that particular subject was quite touchy.   
  
"Angel, can you go tell Danny to take you out for a walk? Tell him we said to do it, okay?" Rafe directed, eyes not leaving Evelyn's pale face. Ron ran out of the room.  
  
"What does it mean, Evelyn?" His voice carried a note of hurt.  
  
"Well . . . it's . . . it was . . . the night I got pregnant. She saw him. Not another soul knows." Evelyn stared into Rafe's eyes, looking for a hint of . . . anything. He remained quite frozen.  
  
"Oh." He left. Leaving Evelyn alone to her tears. It still hurt. She had picked Danny over him. It . . .It wasn't fair! They had been together first!  
  
He wiped his tears and went out to look for his kids. Mine and Danny's, he reminded himself bitterly.   
  
  
  
  
  
Ron awoke the next morning, feeling horrible. Sweat poured around her hairline. Her head hurt and her palms itched. She moved to scratch them.   
  
"Ewwwww!" She whispered. Her left hand was covered in pus soaked gauze. She carefully unwrapped it and stared at her palm.   
  
"Mama!" It was red and pus was leaking from the tiny but deep wounds.   
  
"Happy Birthday, Ronnie! What?" Evelyn burst into her daughter's room.  
  
"Look Mama. It hurts." Evelyn examined the hand.   
  
"What did you touch last night?"  
  
"Um, dirt?" she looked sheepishly at her mom. Evelyn frowned.   
  
"You just can't keep out of trouble, can you? It's infected." Her hand moved to Ron's forehead. "You have a fever too! I'll be back up with the thermometer. Just stay still and don't touch your hand."  
  
She returned four minutes later, equipped with medicine and a thermometer. Ron stayed still while her mom took her temperature.   
  
"Rafe!" Evelyn yelled when she saw the numbers.  
  
"What?" He walked into the room.   
  
"Can you go down to the kitchen and get me a bowl of cold water, with half a cup of vinegar in it, and a clean handkerchief?" she asked, half expecting him to refuse.   
  
"Sure. But what's wrong?" He asked curiously.  
  
"She's burning. Her hand got infected."  
  
"Are you okay angel?"   
  
She nodded feverishly, even though it wasn't true.  
  
"Some birthday this is!" She muttered and tried to keep her tears in. But they flowed over her lashes and down her cheeks. Her mother wiped them softly.   
  
"It'll be okay, I promise." Evelyn whispered, her heart breaking in half. Poor kid. Sick on her birthday.   
  
Why does everything always happen to us?  
  
  
  
  
  
Ron slept for most of the day, under Evelyn or Rafe's vigil. She only awoke for lunch, a big bowl of chicken soup, and to go to the bathroom. Her temperature didn't falter, remaining at a steady 103.1. By nighttime, Evelyn was worried. She had tried everything she knew to get the fever down. Ron's forehead lay a kerchief soaked with cold water and vinegar, her tummy was full of medicine and her hand carefully wiped with alcohol and slathered with ointment that stung horribly.   
But no results.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I NEED critisim! Please! Want to know where I need to improve. I won't get mad. Thanks to HuntressMinerva for telling me about the blood being too graphic. i reread it, and your right. But I wanted to make an impression on the reader; how bloody battles can be (even tiny ones like that) and how wrong it is to involve innocents in them. Criticize me! (LOL)  
  



	6. Innocent Blood Spilled

Author's Note: You are allgoing to get a surprise towards the end of this chapter. I wannna thank everyone who criticized me, as well as my betas! Thanks a bunch for the encouragement too! And thanks to Elpee, my partner in watching Ben Affleck movies. And Ivelina, who put up with me and my annoying little Ben Affleck facts. LOL  
Luv Ya'll!  
  
  
  
"Rafe, her fever won't go down!" Evelyn closed her daughter's door softly. "I've tried everything!"  
  
"Maybe we should go fetch the doctor." Rafe suggested, eyes worried.   
  
"Tomorrow. If it doesn't go down tonight, you can go fetch him tomorrow morning. I think there might be a pebble or a piece of glass inside her hand." Evelyn paused. "Can you stay with her? I'll bring her some soup for dinner. Her mouth hurts too much to chew."  
  
Rafe nodded and opened the door. He took the chair next to her head and softly ruffled the sweaty curls.  
  
  
  
  
"Angel, come on, wake up. It's dinnertime." Rafe stroked her cheek as Evelyn placed the tray on her bedside table.   
  
Ron's eyes opened slowly and she tried to push herself into a sitting position. She groaned softly and yawned.   
  
"Can you help her eat? I have to go down and give Danny his dinner."  
  
"Sure." Rafe took the spoon. "Open wide."  
  
Ron opened. He spooned the hot liquid in her mouth. She swallowed eagerly, dehydrated from the fever. "Tell me a story Daddy."  
  
He raised his eyebrows. "Me?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Okay. Um, what do you want it to be about?"  
  
She shrugged and swallowed another spoonful.  
  
"About my first flight?"  
  
"No. The time you and Mama met. How did you meet?" She opened her mouth, waiting. He lost himself in his thoughts for a second, not seeing her.   
  
"More!" He snapped back and fed her another mouthful.  
  
"Well, I was a pilot, and your mom was a nurse. We met on the job. I was supposed to take an eye exam . . ."  
  
Ron never stop turning and twisting that night. Her mother or father, staying by her bed in a vigil, would hear her cry out in her sleep every once in a while. Her fever refused to go down. By morning, Evelyn was frantic.  
  
"Go get the doctor Rafe. She's not getting any better." Rafe obeyed and returned an hour later with the doctor.  
  
  
  
  
  
"There is something inside her hand and it's infected badly. I think it's a piece of glass. Her fever won't go down until it's out of the flesh. I'll have to operate to get it out." The doctor concluded after examining his patient carefully and thoroughly.   
  
Rafe and Evelyn exchanged worried glances and nodded grimly. "When?"  
  
"The sooner, the better. If that fever rises any more, it'll get risky. Go get her things and we'll drive her to the hospital in Nashville. They should be able to do it right away."  
  
Evelyn nodded and hurried up the stairs to put Ron's clothes and things in her duffel bag. Rafe went upstairs, wrapped his sweaty daughter in a sheet, and carried her out of the house and into the back seat of their car.  
  
  
  
When Ron woke up, the first thing she noticed was the throbbing pain in her left hand. She lifted it up and stared at the white bandaging.  
  
"Ron? Angel are you up?" Rafe asked, noticing his daughter had moved.  
  
"Yeah," She mumbled. "I'm hungry. What happened?"  
  
"Well, you were in surgery. There was a piece of glass stuck inside your hand and the doctors had to take it out."  
  
"When can I go home? What day is it?"  
  
"It's July fourth. And you can come home tomorrow. Mom or I will stay with you during the night."  
  
"Where is Mama?"  
  
"She went to the diner for lunch. She'll be back soon."  
  
At that precise moment, Evelyn and Danny walked in the door. Seeing her daughter's eyes open and alert, Evelyn rushed over to her bedside.  
  
"Mama!"  
  
"Oh, Ron, are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, but my hand hurts."  
  
"It'll stop soon."  
  
"Danny!" Ron had spotted her brother.  
  
He rushed over to her and looked at their parents. "Can I talk to her alone?"  
  
Evelyn and Rafe suppressed smiles and exited.  
  
"Here Ron. This is for you. Happy late birthday." He handed her a small package wrapped in pretty violet paper with pale pink ribbons. She eagerly reached toward it, but carefully unwrapped it. The paper was just too pretty to waste.  
  
"Oh. Oh, It's wonderful!" She gasped, staring at the fist sized model airplane.  
  
"I made it for you. You can look at it until your hand gets well enough for you to learn to fly."   
  
"It's . . . perfect!" She examined every inch of the toy. It was carefully painted army green with tiny designs on the wings and doors. "Thank you so much."  
  
"I just hope you're okay. I'm gonna crush Johnny for doin' this to ya."  
  
She grabbed his arm. "No. It's my fault in the first place. I never should have told Casey about having two dads. But he heard and . . . Well, when he punched you," She looked at Danny's bruised cheekbone and eye. "I just couldn't stand it! But promise me you won't go after him again."  
  
He sighed. "Fine. I promise. But if he EVER hurts you again, promise off."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
"I saw him." Danny said abruptly.  
  
"What?" His little sister gazed at him, puzzled. "Who?"  
  
"My father. I saw him. Yesterday. In the morning, before Mama and Rafe brought you here. I was sitting at his grave talking to him for you. He—He just appeared." All of a sudden, he realized that this might scare Ron.  
  
She smiled at him. "What did he say?"  
  
"Well—he said that he didn't know about me before he left for the Dolittle mission. He said that if he'd known, he wouldn't have gone. He tells me that he watches over us. Me and you. Everywhere. He's our guardian angel."  
  
"I know."  
  
"What?" He snapped out of his daze.  
  
"I saw him too. He told me that he loves you and that he wants you to talk to him more."  
  
"Oh. Well, um, I have to go now." Danny wandered to the door, and gave his sister one last smile and wave.  
  
  
  
  
"I promised her a flying lesson on her birthday. She'll be crushed to find out that she's not allowed to use her hand for another four months. By then it might be too cold to fly." Rafe told his wife quietly as they waited for Danny and Ron to finish their little 'talk'.   
  
"You know, I really don't think it's a good idea to give an eight year old girl flying lessons. She's too young."  
  
"That's what you said about Danny, remember? Then he shocked you. He is a great pilot, isn't he?"  
  
Evelyn smiled faintly. "He is."  
  
"Maybe . . . maybe we could take them out to an airbase and show them around. It could be a family trip. It would fascinate both of them."  
  
Evelyn stared at him. "Are you crazy? Take a twelve year old boy and an eight year old girl to an airbase? To a marine airbase?"  
  
"Oh, come on. It would be fun. I could take them up for a flight, maybe take them to meet the Colonel."  
  
"Dolittle?" Evelyn had frozen. She had never quite forgiven the man who lead Daniel to his death. The man who had sent him on a suicide mission. She did understand that Danny volunteered. But it didn't hurt any less.  
  
Rafe nodded. "Why not?"  
  
Danny opened the door. "I'm hungry. Can I eat my lunch now Mama?"  
  
  
  
Ron left the hospital the next day, but was forced to stay in bed for the rest of the week. Her Daddy had promised her and Danny a surprise to make up for the crummy birthday.   
  
"What do you think it is?" Ron asked her brother.  
  
"I have no idea. Maybe it's a new plane."  
  
"Or a dog."  
  
"Or . . . a motorcycle."  
  
"Or a television!"  
  
"It's a trip." Rafe interrupted.  
  
His kids looked at him eagerly, awaiting an explanation.  
  
"We're going to Hawaii."  
  
Yelps of happiness.  
  
"When???" Danny yelled, excited.   
  
"Next month. We leave on the eighth of August."  
  
"For how long?" Ron asked, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Two weeks."  
  
Whoops of joy.  
  
  
  
After Ron abandoned her bedrest, she began to pack. All of her summer clothes. And her special dress. Most of the blood had washed off, but some stains were still visible along the front of the fabric. But it didn't matter. Somehow, the poor cloth just couldn't get rid of violence around it. The stains would remain there forever, a reminder to the little girl, that fights never solve anything. Just spill innocent blood.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Where do you think Dolittle should live? The next chapter will be almost twice as long as this one, I think. it'll be all about the trip and stuff. Don't you just love the idea of two little kids at an army airbase?LOL. 


	7. Pearl Harbor 1954

Author's Note: Hi Everyone!!!!! This is the long-awaited (I hope) vacation chapter. But, not all of it. This is just half of their vacation at Pearl Harbor. The next will be up before July 20th, since I have to fly to Bulgaria that day. After the next chapter, chapter 8, you will have to wait until after September 4th, for chapter 9. Hope you like it, and even if you don't, hope you tell me so.  
Special thanks to my beta, Katie, who corrects those annoying little typos I always make when my brains are working faster than my hands. LOL.  
Luv Ya'll!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
On the eighth of August, Ron rode, for the first time, in a plane that was not piloted by her brother or her dad.   
  
  
  
"Oh! Oh, it's beautiful!" Ron yelped. On her left, Danny was quietly drinking in the amazing view. On her right, her parents stared at the landscape before them. They hadn't thought that it could ever seem alive again.  
  
"Ohhhh! Can I have a lei? Please?" Ron had spotted a vendor with brightly colored wreaths of flowers.  
  
Rafe followed her gaze and bought her and Evelyn bright fuchsia and violet ones.   
  
When they arrived at the hotel, Danny and Ron both dropped their luggage and bounded to their parents' room.  
  
"Let's go!" Danny pulled on Evelyn's arm.  
  
"Come on Daddy!" Ron added.  
  
"We're going to rest today. We can go around tomorrow." Evelyn said sternly.  
  
"But we're not tired!" Danny protested.  
  
"Please?!" Ron tugged at her daddy's hand, looking up at him pleadingly.  
  
Rafe looked at Evelyn, defeated look on his face. "You stay here and rest. I'll take them to the harbor."  
  
"Oh, all right. Just don't wear them out too much. I don't want them sleeping all day tomorrow."  
  
"Yay!"  
  
"Whoopee!"  
  
  
  
  
"Hello. I'm Rafe McCawley. I spoke to you on the phone? About a tour of the harbor."  
  
"Oh, yes. I remember. My name is David Lawrence. Dave."  
  
"This is Ron, and this is Danny."  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Veronica. But you better call me Ron!" The little girl confirmed.   
  
Dave smiled at Rafe over her head. "Let's get goin' shall we?"   
  
Rafe nodded and ushered his kids forward, motioning for them to follow Dave.  
  
  
  
  
"Can we fly now?" Ron asked at the end of the tour. They had toured the ships and harbor, but not the hangers and airfields.  
  
"Is it all right if I take them up for a bit?" Rafe asked Dave.  
  
"Sure it is. Go right ahead."  
  
"I wanna fly by myself." Danny complained.  
  
Dave looked surprised. "By yourself?"  
  
"Yeah. Rafe taught me. Can I?"  
  
Rafe? Dave wondered. He looked over to Rafe. He was nodding. "Sure. It's fine. Just be real careful!"  
  
Danny nodded.  
  
"Let's go!" Ron tugged her father and brother.  
  
They obeyed. Rafe headed for a larger plane, Danny for tiny one. Ron followed her father and waved to Danny.   
  
"Bye bye!"  
  
  
  
  
Ron shrieked with joy as the airplane rolled over and over. Rafe laughed right along with her, glad to hear her having fun.   
  
"Let's play chicken, Rafe!" Danny said into the earphones. For a moment, Rafe was taken back thirteen years in time. Back to when he and Danny were just cocky young pilots, playing chicken all day while the war raged in Europe. He could have sworn it was Danny's voice he heard in those earphones instead of his son's.  
  
"Rafe?!" Danny asked. "Can you hear me?"  
  
Rafe snapped back to reality. "Yeah. I can hear you. Let's go. You turn right, I'll go left. All right? You ready?"  
  
"What is he saying Daddy?" Ron tugged at her father's hand, keeping one eye on her brother's plane, which was speeding ahead of theirs.  
  
"Oh, nothing. You'll see. It's a . . .surprise."  
  
"Can I try? Can I try to fly?"  
  
He looked at her. "You're not supposed to. Your hand, remember?"  
  
She looked at him so pleadingly it broke his heart. He took his hands off the control, placed her tiny hands (one of which was still bandaged carefully) in his, and put them back on.   
  
"We're flying it together!" He shouted over the roar of the engine.  
  
"I'm comin' at you!" He heard Danny's voice in his ear.  
  
"I'm ready for ya!" He answered, carefully keeping his eye on the boy's plane, which was steadily approaching.  
  
Ron shrieked. "Why is he coming at us Daddy?"  
  
"Let go of the controls Ron."  
  
"No, I want to fly too!"  
  
"Let go right now." Danny's plane was speedily advancing. "I'm not kidding Ron! Let go!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Let go or we're gonna hit!" She refused to remove her hands. He grabbed the control, her hands and all, and prepared to swerve.   
  
"Shit!" He whispered. Which way had he said he'd turn?!  
  
"Ready Rafe? Remember: I go right. You go to your left!"   
  
"Thank you Danny!" Rafe's whisper wasn't audible over the roar of the engine.  
  
He leaned left, ready to twist the control, along with his daughter's hands, which were firmly implanted on it.  
  
"Owww!" Ron squealed with pain. Her hand! The scar! The stitches! She hushed at the sight of her brother's plane coming straight at theirs. Her eyes widened in terror, but refused to shut. The plane turned sideways, narrowly missing Danny's, which had turned in the opposite direction.   
  
"That's called chicken!" He father announced to her, a note of anger in his voice. "And if you'd let go of the control, we would have been able to turn earlier."   
  
The plane landed roughly and the little girl bounced in her seat on her daddy's lap. She turned to face him, clutching her hand tightly to her body.  
  
The plane skidded to a complete stop and Rafe turned the motor off. They stared at each other silently.  
  
"My hand." She whispered, tears of regret and pain sliding down her cheeks.  
  
His eyes widened. He had forgotten about her scar. It still hadn't healed properly after only a month.  
  
"I'm sorry! Oh, are you all right?" He examined her bandage. The wound hadn't opened, thankfully. He looked back into her guilty brown eyes. "But if you'd let go, your hand wouldn't be hurting, now would it?"  
  
She shook her head, eyes lowered.  
  
Danny knocked to the door of the airplane.  
  
"Aren't you two getting out?"  
  
  
  
  
  
That evening, after dinner, Evelyn took Ron and Danny to the beach while Rafe went to bed. She walked silently her children on either side of her, wind blowing her hair back softly. Ron's special dress billowed, Marilyn Monroe style, around her. She brushed it down, staring at her mother's face.   
  
"Mama?" She asked softly.  
  
"Hum? What Ron?" Evelyn tore her mind from the overwhelming memories of the past, to the present.  
  
"Tell us about your time at Pearl Harbor. Before the bombing."  
  
"Yeah." Danny agreed. "Please?" He added, as an afterthought.   
  
"Well . . ." Evelyn paused at the sudden loss of words. There was so much to tell. Where they too young to hear it all? " Your Daddy, " she interrupted herself to pat Ron's head. " had just left for England. He went to be a big war hero. After he left, I was shipped off here, along with five other nurses and a bunch of other pilots. Including your father's best friend, Daniel Walker. Who I had met once before, the night prior to Rafe's departure. He seemed kind of shy." She paused, looking at her son, whose head was level with her shoulder already.  
  
"Days after days I would sit here, on the beach, and write letters to Rafe." She continued, pointing to a row of small boulders half buried in the sand. "He said it was very cold in England, so I would try to describe the warmth here as best as I could, try to send it to him through my words."   
  
She spoke more to herself than to her silent children, who were drinking every word in hungrily. They had stopped walking now, and were sitting on the boulders, with their bare toes buried deep in the sand.  
  
"Until on day, about two months after I had arrived here. I had just finished stitching up a cut for a very nice sailor, I think his name was Dorie, when I saw your father," She placed her arm around Danny's shoulder protectively. ". . . get out of a taxi."  
  
I hadn't seen him in three months or so, and he looked so terribly sorrowful. I just knew it was bad news. When he hugged me, I was certain. I knew Rafe was dead."  
  
Danny and Ron nodded. They had heard the story of Rafe's brush with death a great many times.   
  
"Then, three months later, I met Danny again, at a movie theater. We hadn't seen each other since he had told me the news. So we went out for dinner, talking about Rafe. Exchanging fond memories, even though our wounds reopened at the memory of his name." She stared down at her hands. "Apparently, not opened enough. I forgot my handkerchief at the table. He came over, at ten thirty, to return it. He was so nervous." She laughed, remembering the expression on Danny's face.  
  
"The next day, he took me up in a plane, showed me the sunset." Danny and Ron glanced at each other at the mention of the word plane. Ron had told her brother everything that had happen during their flight. "It was beautiful. Magical." She tore her eyes from the setting sun before her eyes to look at her children, whose attention she held in the palm of her hand.  
  
"I'll tell Rafe to take you two up tomorrow. Then, in the next few days, we spent days here at the beach, swimming in the cool water. This island seemed so perfect. Magical, like I said. It was a paradise. We were so happy."  
  
Her eyes searched the horizon. For what, she didn't know. Maybe for a sign of the time that had passed since those nights of watching the sun set with Danny. Or, perhaps, for a sign of Danny himself.   
  
Ron and Danny exchanged looks and silently agreed to let their mother be alone. They sensed her need to be alone. They walked to the waters edge, strolling in the small but strong waves, wind caressing their tresses and clothing.   
  
Evelyn never felt them leave. She was too deep in thought. But the tinkle of their laughter brought her back to Hawaii 1954. She stared at them, enchanted. Their figures just silhouettes against the horizon.   
  
She had received her answer. They were her answer. They were the result of the years that had passed. They were the result of her romances. They looked so, innocent, together. So perfectly expressed her emotions. They had different fathers. That was what brought them close. Their differences.  
  
The sight struck her magical. And for a moment, she could see their fathers in them. Hidden just below the surfaces of their skin. Hidden just in the depths of their eyes. Hidden in their laughter.   
  
  
  
  
  
For the next few days, Ron learned every nook and cranny of the airbase and the ships docked in the harbor. The sailors soon got used to the sight of the little blond girl in the old hula print dress roaming around their ships and playing anywhere and everywhere.  
  
On her third day in Hawaii, she had met another eight year old girl, whose father was a pilot. She had lived her whole life on the airbase.   
  
"Helen! Come on!" Ron yelled at the gangly girl with the waist long brown tresses.   
  
"Wait! My shoe's untied!" The girl, Helen, was bent over her foot, struggling with the bright blue laces of her once-white tennis shoes. After the third attempt, her fingers finally tightened the knot enough for it to not come untied during one of Ron's long and tiring games of hide and seek.  
  
But the both loved the games. There was only one rule about hiding. You could hide anywhere, except the buildings. On any ship, in the cockpit of any plane. But they weren't allowed to go up in the air with anyone. One game of this kind of hide and seek could last for a whole day.  
  
So each girl carried a book with her, to read while hiding. It was quite boring just staring into space for hours at an end, waiting to be found. You had no guarantee that the person who was searching for you didn't decide to check your hiding place last.  
  
" . . . one hundred!" Helen lifted her head from her hands, where it had been cradled against the wall. She took a moment to stare around herself for any sign of a movement. Knowing Ron, well, sort of, she was probably hidden well away from hearing distance.  
  
Helen decided to try the hangers first, since they were Ron's favorite place to hide. There was six in all, spread well around the huge runways.   
  
She semi-jogged to the nearest hanger and began searching, clear blue eyes wide, searching for the tiniest signs of movement. Well, at least I'm getting enough exercise, Helen thought, shrugging to herself.   
  
  
  
  
A week into the trip, Ron had visited the beach, the harbor, the military hospital where her mother had worked, the diner where her mother and Danny's dad had talked, the movie theater, as well as the airbase.  
  
But her favorite place of all was inside the water. It was a clear and glassy turquoise, and just the perfect temperature. Not cold, and not warm exactly. Just cool. She and Danny sat in the water in their bathing suits for hours at an end and listened to either of their parents tell them stories about this paradise of an island. At the day's end, they got out, skin pruned from the long stay in the watery heaven, and they would sleep deeply at night. Dreaming of the stories and of their parents' adventures in this exotic world.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: That little box, right below this sentence, is there for a REASON! (lol) USE IT!  



	8. Lucky

Hello everyone!!!!!! I'm backkkkkk!!!! Finally, right?! I am finishing up Ron's story. The basic concept is going to come out more, in the next, and last, few chapters. I think there will be about two more after this one. If you like it, review. If you don't, review. Get the pattern? LOL. Lana, thanks for the great reviews, and I luv Ben Affleck too, so I'll be starting a piece of fan fiction about him soon. Hope u like it. Ideas welcome. (As well as criticism!)   
  
  
  
  
The vacation was over. Ron's family had returned from the paradise otherwise known as Hawaii. To her, Pearl Harbor was no longer a dreamed up and very much though about place in her mind. It was now a memory. Alive with vivid details and real true people. She and Helen had exchanged addresses on their last day. They had promised to write.  
  
Promises however, are easily forgotten when an eight year old girl returns home and stays out till ten on warm summer evenings, chasing after Mickey and Danny. When everyday life resumes. So Helen's address sat safely in Ron's desk drawer.  
  
  
  
Over the years, Ron slowly grew from a loud and spunky kid into a thoughtful and smart girl. But her curiosity never faded. And neither did her love of Pearl Harbor tales. She still loved to hear her father's voice, full of emotion and remembrance, tell tales of love and war. To her, war wasn't this heroic, courage filled story. It was a horror filled tragedy that had taken a piece of her parents, as well as Danny's father. She hated it, she hated it with all her heart.  
  
  
  
"Boys and girls, your English teacher and I are collaborating on this project. It's worth 20% of both your English and History grades." The last sentence snapped the sleepy class out of the Twilight Zone. They groaned, in unison.   
  
"But Ms. Hevrin!" Billy Mason moaned.  
  
"Don't interrupt me, Billy. Please, do let me finish." All eyes were on the teacher, perhaps for the first time all year. "This is an essay, a five page essay." Another round of groans. She paused, waiting for them to die down.  
  
"Of you family history. The essay is due, on my desk, next Monday. That gives you a full week." The class began whispering among themselves, who to write about. Only one girl, near the front of the classroom, remained quiet.  
  
Her sun bleached blond locks were neatly braided, but a few loose curls fluttered freely around her face. Her deep hazel eyes looked beyond the teacher. In her mind, Ron remembered her father's pained expression when he spoke about the tragedies of war.  
  
"I'll write the truth!" She whispered to herself fiercely. "I'll show them that it isn't some heroic fairy tale. They'll see . . ."  
  
  
*****************  
  
Lucky  
  
  
  
I am extremely lucky. I have both a mother and a father. Doesn't fill out your definition of lucky? Perhaps you believe lucky is being rich? smart? beautiful? talented? For me, lucky is just having two parents. Why?  
  
Because my brother doesn't.  
  
  
"You're so beautiful it hurts." My father lay in my mother's lap while she nursed his broken nose.  
  
"I think it's your nose that hurts." She replied, smiling.  
  
"No. It's my heart." Her smile widened and my father stared in awe at her young and beautiful face.  
  
  
  
They fell in love. Plain and simple. Complications were scheduled for a later date.  
  
  
  
"Evelyn, I have to leave for England. I'm going to war."  
  
"But you're in the US Air Force! They can't just ship you off to England!"  
  
"They didn't. I volunteered."  
  
  
  
My father wasn't "eager to die, just to matter". My parents kept in touch. They wrote many letters to each other. Soon after my father left, my mother and my father's best friend, Daniel Walker, got transferred to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.   
  
That's where they received the news. My father's plane had been shot down into the English Channel. Daniel, or Danny, had been the one to tell my mother the news, just as my father had wished. And that was that.  
  
Until two months later, when my mother and Danny bumped into each other at the movie theater. They went out for dinner and ended up falling in love.  
  
A few weeks later, my mother discovered that she was pregnant with Danny's baby. But she didn't want to tell him yet. That night, she stayed in the hospital a little later than usual.  
  
When she left the building, my father stood before her. Flesh and blood. Alive. His plane had gone down, but he had gotten out and was rescued by some French fishermen. It had taken him three months to get to Pearl Harbor.  
  
To see my mother. But he sensed that something wasn't right. And when he saw Danny, coming to tell my mother the news, he understood.  
  
That night my father and Danny met in a bar. My father had gotten a bit drunk.  
  
  
  
"You're a rotten drunk Rafe. You always were." Danny told him.  
  
"Well, you're a rotten friend. That's a new development." My father responded.  
  
They got in a fight that night, in the bar. When the police arrived they ran away in Danny's car. To the beach, where they talked. And fell asleep. That night was December 6th, 1941.  
  
They awoke to the sound of airplanes being flown over their heads in the morning. Within minutes, until everyone realized what exactly was going on, bombs were dropping. Torpedoes were shooting through the water. Ships were exploding. Bodies were flying through the air. People screaming.  
  
  
  
"Just get me to a god-damn airplane, Danny!" My father yelled.  
  
  
  
Danny did. They both went up in two of the few airplanes that were left. They took down seven of the twenty nine Japanese planes that fell.  
  
Meanwhile, my mother and all the other nurses tried to help all of the wounded sailors that were coming in. At the same time praying and hoping that their own sweethearts were still alive.  
  
The air filled with putrid smells of burning flesh, sweat, and smoke. Fiery explosions lit up the sky, killing. Killing sailors. Killing children. Killing people. Killing.  
  
After the attack died down, Danny and my father went to the hospital, where my mother was.  
  
  
  
"What can we do, Evelyn?" They asked.  
  
"Blood. We need blood."  
  
  
  
She put IVs in their arms, and while their blood trickled into Coke bottles, they watched a feverish man die before their very eyes.   
  
And then there was the Arizona. The watery grave of thousands of young sailors. They were buried, or sunken, alive. But nothing could be done. To this day, they lay there.  
  
After this day, my father and Danny were asked to participate in a mission.  
  
  
  
"Do you know what top secret is?" Colonel Doolittle asked them.  
  
"Yes, sir." My father answered. "It's the kind of mission you get medals for. But they send them to your relatives."  
  
  
  
The mission was later known as The Doolttle Raid. It required them to take off of aircraft carriers, close to the Japanese coast, fly over Japan, bomb Tokyo, and keep flying, to land in China.  
  
  
  
"You're going to learn to get these planes up in 467 feet. Because at 468, you're dead." Doolittle warned them.  
  
  
  
They learned. But getting the planes up wasn't the problem. Keeping them there was. Five hours before they were supposed to take off, Japanese ships neared their aircraft carriers. If their mission was to remain secret, they would have to take off immediately.   
  
But they were father from the coast than they were supposed to be. And their planes would be too heavy if they carried the extra fuel. So they lightened their load. By throwing off their guns.  
  
They bombed their targets, not knowing if they had enough fuel to make it to China. They did. But there were Japanese soldiers camped there. They landed.  
  
Danny was shot twice in the chest by the Japanese.  
  
  
  
"Danny, you can't die now! You know why, Danny? 'Cause you're going to be a daddy."  
  
"No Rafe. You are."  
  
  
  
They buried him in my backyard.  
  
My brother's name is Daniel Walker Jr. Daniel Walker was his father. His father was taken by war.  
  
I am extremely lucky. I have two parents. But pieces of them are missing. Like Danny's father; taken by war.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ron tore her eyes from her paper, wanting to see some sort of reaction from her classmates.  
  
She met their eyes silently. They sat, stunned for a long moment, blinking. Then they slowly raised their hands and began to clap.  
  
Ron grinned happily and sighed mentally, with relief.  
  
"Very good, Veronica." Ms. Hevrin looked truly surprised.  
  
She had never thought that one of her sleepy pupils could possibly write something so powerful.  
  
She got an A, loud and red sitting proudly on the first page. Her mother and father had tears in their eyes when she read it to them. Then she tucked it away, into an old cardboard box that held her favorite old stories and her proudest achievements. And it lay, forgotten, for a long time.  
  



	9. (Bonus Chapter!!!) A War Story

A/N: This is the 'forgotten" chapter. i forgot to lao it, so count it a a sort of bonus to my loyal readers. I'm gonna be adding a special chapter for my readers, as well as fix grammar and spelling errors. Be sure to check back often for the bonus chapter coming up. (hint hint; Ron and Danny will get to meet a certain Colonel)  
  
"Veronica, I really think you have talent. I wouldn't be asking you to do this if I didn't think you had any." Miss Wheaton, her English teacher, said.  
  
"Do what?" Ron asked, brushing a stray curl aside.  
  
"Enter this contest. It's a national novel writing contest for high school students. The grand prize is having your novel published."  
  
Ron gaped. "Published? Wow!" Her dream. To have people all over the world read what she'd written. A near miracle, it seemed to her. "I'll do it. When does it have to be sent, and where?"  
  
  
  
Miss Wheaton smiled. "I thought you'd be up to it. It has to be done by December 31st. Here's the address. Good luck, Veronica. If you want an editor, I'd love to read and comment."  
  
"Thanks, Miss Wheaton. Thank you so much!" Ron's gears were already turning. A story about a pilot? A lost girl? A traveler? A family? Possibilities ran through her head, eager and alive.  
  
  
  
  
  
She decided on the story of the family. There would be the father, strong and helpful. And the mother, lively and cheerful. The eldest daughter, bubbly and popular. Then the younger daughter, quiet and moody. A few problems; problems were normal, but nothing serious. No best friend of the father's dead. No ex-lover of the mother's, killed in war.  
  
Ron wrote and wrote. Hours at an end, day after day, her mother, or her father, or Danny, would find her sitting on a protruding boulder in the middle of the creek. Or in the middle of the meadow, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of grass. Or next to Daniel's grave. Or in the hanger. Anywhere and everywhere. Writing.  
  
And then it stopped coming. Whenever she reread, what had seemed like a masterpiece only moments ago, would become a family so normal, so perfectly normal, that it was creepy. The ideal problems, the idea solutions. Ideal this, ideal that. Crap.  
  
  
  
And that's when she started over. Rose from the ashes.  
  
She was bored, looking for ideas and inspirations when she stumbled upon an old cardboard box with old essays and stories. And she found it. Inspiration. Her novel had laid buried under a few layers of dust, under her bed, the whole time!  
  
The family history she had written in eight grade! It was perfect. She had living breathing resources under her own roof. How stupid of her to forget! To forget a war; and it's leftovers.  
  
She called it A War Story. It was. It was a war story. It was a love story. It was a story of findings. A story of shattered hopes. But most of all, a story of loss.  
  
  
  
"Pray for me Danny, pray for me. And wish me luck." She whispered to herself as she dropped the package into the mailbox.  
  
Her old friend. She still spoke to him. In her mind now, not aloud. In the meadow. Or next to his grave. Or near the creek. Or, in the air. Whenever her brother or her father took her up, that is. She never did fly alone. She had her try at it, the summer she turned nine. But it was . . . too . . .scary for her. To be in charge of something so powerful. She preferred the passenger side.  
  
Of the airplane, that is. She took full control of everything else in her life. Or, at least, she tried to. She was successful, mostly. But things backfired sometimes. They did for everyone, not just Ron. Or, Veronica, as she was better known that year (her junior year in high school).  
  
But to one angel, who always listened, she would always remain the outspoken, long-legged, lanky, tanned and freckled little girl.   
  
To another, a person, she remained his angel, loyal and adventurous, with Ev's big hazel eyes and her own honey colored curls. Just Ron.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope everything makes more sense now! Sorry for the confusion! 


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
  
Ron won the contest and her dream came true. Her book was published and sold millions of copies. She got into Harvard University, and a year later, Oxford University in England. When she was nineteen and in her first year at Oxford, she wrote another novel, Rising From the Ashes, about herself and her brother.   
  
Danny had become more and more curios about the events that had killed his father over the years and decided to become a historian. He was now also writing, working on a book about Pearl Harbor.  
  
Ron organized PAW; People Against War, when she was 22, and became a spokesperson for Amnesty International. That was also the year she met Michael Hampchester. In 1971, when she was 25, Ron married Michael. A year later, a daughter was born to her, which she name Raphaelle. She became known as Rafe, and was her grandfather's pride and joy, like Ron had been. Two years later, Rafe acquired twin sisters Daniella and Evelyn.   
  
When Her daughters had grown, Ron received a phone call from a producer. They wanted to turn A War Story into a movie. She let them, as soon as they promised to be honest and not change it.  
  
You've seen that movie. It's called Pearl Harbor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I know this is an abrupt ending, and a not-so-very-good one, but I just HAD to end it. It's been dragging on forever, and I have writers block about it.   
  
  
Hugs'n Kisses to:  
  
Katie, my beta reader for finding my mistakes and helping me correct them  
  
Elpee thanx for encourageing me, and for everything else. Alex loves ya, I know he does. Keep writing. It's GOOD!  
  
Ivelina Thanx for putting up with my Pearl Harbor obsession (More like, my Ben Affleck obsession) lol  
  
Huntress Minerva for reading EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER, and Reviewing. I luv ya 4 it. And I love your stories. you r a wonderful writer.  
  
RosePotter for reviewing all the time thanks!  
  
Ashkickerchic for reviewing regularly. If u need a beta, I'd love to help out  
  
Darla for giving me really good ideas (the bully scene was for you) and giving me a really long review  
  
Ron(last but not least) you live inside me and my pen. I love your spunk and determination and hope to floow in your footsteps. You're one of my favorite characters. you're so Alive! Ahhh! I CREATED A FRANKENSTEIN! 


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